Best Donna Poems
Dear, dear, Donna Jones
Told you your poetry would shine
Many others have also noticed
It's not just an opinion of mine
Remember when you first appeared
You thought you might not fit in
You're now one of our shining stars
Many hearts you surely did win
Knew your poetry was very special
Tried to convince you to stay
Happy you found a home at P-Soup
Brightening us up every day
Dear, dear, Donna Jones
Just knew your poetry would shine
Talent like yours doesn't come along often
So happy you're a friend of mine
© Jack Ellison 2013
SHE DOES
she does make me feel whole
she does touch the intricacies of my soul
she does, and she does it all
with every poem she answers a holy dove's call
she does thrill me body and bone
she does make me feel no longer alone
she does write words I could never duplicate
she does write words that will allow her into Heaven's gate
she does something that makes me feel real
she does write words that describe how I feel
she does scribe stanzas that shake me awake
she does put into words feelings for this poet's sake
she does know the respect I hold for a poet of her grade
she does know the lady has a soul only the universe has made
she does write words that set my spirit free
alas, she probably doesn't know what her words mean to me
© 2013..copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
She is as wild as the prickly thistle
That stands proudly on windswept wild rugged moor
Emotional deep as an ocean
As flirtatious and fragile as a butterfly
That graces a simmers day.
Her voice as sweet as the robin
Her beauty
And very presence
Takes my breath away.
She can be as temperamental as a tempest
And sting the heart as a bee
Her stubbornness like a tree
That doesn't bend in the wind
But she keeps her secrets
Under lock and key.
She can be loving kind and mild
Beauty personified in femininity
So alluring
But also playful and mischievous as a child.
She is my nemesis my mistress
My angel an individualist
With fire or hunger in her beguiling eyes
I love her I hate her although my passion
And gratitude runs high
She is wild and untameable as that rugged savage moor
Her name is Bella Donna
She has my heart
And belongs to me.
Peter Dome.Copyright.2015. May.
Prima donna Fish - Haiku
noodles boil in lake
water fall is the ladle
fish prefer raw bait
She sings
For kings
Ablaze
They gaze
Profound
The sound
All 'round
Spellbound
D evoted to me from the start
O utstanding in care she imparts
N oble in fulfilling my needs
N oteworthy in words and in deeds
A ffectionate mother to me...
My Donna’s as sweet as can be!!!!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Donna isn’t old enough to be my Mama, but she has the most beautiful heart of a mother and has taken me under her wing and adopted me as her daughter. I can’t tell you what a precious gift that is, especially since I lost my Mama 14 years ago….and I’m a BIG BABY at heart and need nurture and care. Thanks, Donna….for being in my life. I love you dearly!
More than just a mother to three daughters.
Yielding to almost nothing in her path.
Making sure to live life to its greatest.
Others don't come close to past troubles.
Then again, no person's life is the same.
Her life, like any, has its kinks in the chain.
Even with them though, she still holds on strong.
Regrets staying in the past where they belong.
Doesn't give herself credit where its due.
Only person I know to always trust.
Never forgets about what matters most.
Never lets her girls face the world alone.
Always my mother, always in my heart.
Posted: March 22nd, 2015
Peacock-like vanity propelling you,
Restless in the search for adulation,
Image of yourself so damn inflated,
Master of a self-centered universe;
A great one, yes, until you ask others.
Donning a pride as a sort of armor,
Only a world-class ego keeping you,
Nary a thought of your worth, if any,
None but that pretty face in the mirror;
Ah, to be living on such shaky ground!
Donna Palmer wants a break
Throws her husband off the track
"Have a safe trip" she says
"You are Hernan cortez"
And finds a nail in her steak
The Diva flows.
This is Poetry Diva show.
Give them what you got.
Share a piece of your mind.
The hits this Diva writes are for you to like.
The poems this Diva crooned are to groove only you.
Her voice is smooth to put you in a intimate move.
She is the versifier that will set your heart afire.
The Diva emanates.
This Poetry Diva will surge.
Share a piece of your mind.
Give them the last word.
This Diva, as a rhymester, does not have to rehearse.
She is so bard that all will hang onto every verse.
Her voice is to croon you into night.
She is poetry emergence insight in life.
Surface
Come Out
Into the light
Poetry Diva Tonight!
This is I mesmerizing.
A transgression that has materialized from
out of the darkness into your lives.
My voice is to drone you and fill you with desire
just a political heartbeat to your mind.
Poetry Diva
Poetry Diva
I am Poetry Diva [and]
This is Poetry Diva’s night!
_______________________/
Penned April 25, 2014!
Tomorrow my dear girl,
Lord has heard thy cry,
Immanuel will be with you,
For he is the everlasting life.
somewhere in my late teens
i heard a voice they'd call a queen
loud and clear this voice seemed
a brand new thing a disco scene
it was to be the sound of my time
the seventies and the eighties
disco's and rhymes
and donna summers was that queen
the icon of the disco scene
she came along just in time
giving me my music, mine
from then we knew the flavor
and it hasn't changed much since
a steady beat, a disco ball
and times we won't forget
My feet are yearning for dance,
Wishing to roll like cone on its tip;
My hands too,wishing to swing
Like eagle taking a flight;
I wish to wind my waist,
Like Tilapia on a gaiety mission.
But where is sparrow?
Where has nightingale gone to?
Please come back sparrow,
Come now nightingale,
Come and sing me your sweet songs;
My feet are yearning for dance.
Your songs are my first aid,
Like mouth to mouth respiration,
They ignite and awaken my nerves ;
And when I hear your lyric,
Like angels in morning service,
My feet yearn for dance.
My feet are yearning for dance,
Wishing to roll like a cone on its tip;
My hands are yearning to swing,
Like eagle taking a flight;
I wish to wind my waist,
Like a Tilapia on a gaiety mission;
But where is sparrow and nightingale?
I say where is my Donna Jones?
Donna,
has a dog named kitty
kitty drives donna nuts
but kitty loves her so so much
kitty is as dark as night
but cuddles with donna with
all her might
kitty sleeps with donna
on very cold nights
kitty loves donna
with all her heart
I often visited the prittiest and kindest lady,
who lived by an abandoned, weedy cemetery...
and she told me tales that made me dream;
up that pine-scented and rugged hill, the Devil tripped many times and finally fell:
when her holiness set her gracious face aglow!
And she never cursed God, but continued her creed,
believing that she was put on earth to sanctify love;
and she planted many seeds in the moist garden...flowers that made her life livelier!
Exchanging her pure soul for money, never tempted her:
living happily and continuously blessing God's name;
if that's how one is blessed, many shouldn't need to wonder...
how she never asked anyone for anything...relying on Providence!
Every spring morning she tended to those roses and gardenias,
like mothers care for their adored children; and she sang
opera like a glamorous prima donna on the illuminated stage:
how astonished were the passersby hearing those lovely areas!
Giovanna, lovely prima donna, sing another beautiful area for me,
let me hear how a soprano can feel that divine harmony;
teach me all the lyrics and the tunes that embellish them:
I am a quick-learner and my passion goes beyond my talent!
Giovanna, lovely prima donna, you sought no honors or earthly glory,
and your visions were grander than those idolized singers,
who only asked for applauds and repeats from the cheering crowds;
you had none of these...only this aspiring-tenor-to-be!
I passed by her house yesterday, the shades were pulled down...her garden
without butterflies was arid and the pretty flowers fluctuated no more;
and the tall pines trees didn't offer their inebriating, sweet aroma,
but there was no sound of Giovanna's voice, the voice of the lovely prima donna:
canaries and bluebirds weren't frantically tapping on her closed window!
In a white laced dress, wearing red shoes and a green velvety hat:
she displayed her national pride, recalling the enchanted land of music and poetry,
where her unforgettable childhood was spent with an innocence so free!